


Before Loving Eyes

by joongz



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Curses, M/M, True Love, kinda unexpected ending???, mingi vs stress, sad spooky times, this is more sad than it is scary, wooyoung is pretty emo, yeosang thinks death is a sexy entity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joongz/pseuds/joongz
Summary: ‘On the thirteenth, the last will find the true love that will burn brighter than any flame. On the thirteenth, the last will find the true love that will wither before loving eyes, unforgettable until the very last breath.’At thirteen, Mingi learns he will have a true love, but that he will kill his true love. It takes them four years to meet, but by then Mingi has fallen in love with someone else.
Relationships: Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Before Loving Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween everyone!!🎃 
> 
> Little playlist for this fic:  
> \- [You Are A Memory](https://open.spotify.com/track/5cWSpmTfItDuppACMrE3I9?si=ymySK0HZSWKWFd_DKZIM9Q) \- Message To Bears  
> \- [Ekki múkk](https://open.spotify.com/track/36ZSqoEkEtH6s9FvVS9yNe?si=uOcOu4a-QFihlxhIyDpmmA) \- Sigur Rós  
> \- [Keep the Streets Empty for Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZsUmKQt3RvaxuHVHbJlyI?si=QtdQE2GzT5mffmsjfN9QeA) \- Fever Ray
> 
> (this fic fried my brain lmao if there are any mistakes ignore them for now ill fix them in a few days)

The year that marked his thirteenth birthday was unforgettable, not because he might have had a crazy birthday party or because he had started middle school, but because his mother introduced him to their family secret. 

On the night of October 31st, she handed him a cloak and told him to put it on. A little confused and creeped out, he agreed.

Song Mingi knew better than to refuse his mother’s requests, or his aunt’s, or his other aunt’s, or his grandmother’s; or of any of the other women that lived, on and off, in their big and old house, which stood at the very end of the street, where the path stopped and collided with the forest. 

_A haunted house_ , many locals called it. Mingi always had thought they were exaggerating, there was nothing strange about his family or the house, but as he looked at the four women wearing the same cloak as him, he supposed there could be some truth to it. 

_Not haunted_ , he thought, _but definitely odd._

Wordlessly, they walked into the dark forest with candles, their shoes crunched on the bed of dry leaves and the first snow. Mingi struggled to keep the candle upright, to not trip over the length of the cloak, and to stare ahead as the hood kept falling into his face. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take them too long to reach their destination: a clearing in the middle of the forest. Dark willows surrounded a little creek, a bed of white flowers that were blooming despite the lack of sun spread out over the clearing. 

It reeked of ominous and eerie energy. 

Mingi wanted to run home and hide under the covers of his bed, but bravely he stood among the women of his family. 

“It’s nothing to be scared of,” Aunt Eunji whispered to him, winking. “You’ll see.”

Mingi nodded his head, swallowing his nerves.

“On All Hallows Eve we welcome the spirits that might visit us from the realm of the dead, and help the lost ones to cross the Gates of Death to the beyond,” Mingi’s mother, Kyunghee, said. 

Coldness seeped through the cloak, and Mingi shivered; was he imagining it or had the world turned colder? He glanced around, the air stuck in his lungs. It was definitely colder than before.

“You can’t see them,” his other aunt, Yeeun, told him. She sounded a little bothered by this fact. “The spirits are here. Your father, he… He is _here_. He wants me to tell you, he is proud of you,” she said.

Mingi gasped. Now he _really_ wanted to run home and hide under the covers of his bed.

“My… dad?” 

His father had died when Mingi was eight. That morning his mother had sat in their kitchen with sadness clinging to her and a pensive look on her face. She had taken him into her arms and whispered to him, “Your father left, little prince. He crossed the Gates of Death.”

Mingi hadn’t really understood her words until the funeral.

“Yes.” Eunji nodded, kindly smiling down at him. She pulled his hood back a little. “It’s All Hallows Eve, Mingi. It’s the night the veil between the dead and the living is the thinnest. To most this night just means dressing up scarily and eating sweets, or watching scary movies; or even nothing at all. To us…” She gestured around them, as if there was a spectacular sight to be seen. 

All Mingi could see were the creepy willows with their sad and hunched over branches, the almost frozen creek, the strange white flowers, and dark shadows that seemed to move if Mingi blinked. 

“To us it’s a duty,” Yeeun continued. “We have to guide the lost spirits safely to the beyond, and prevent others from getting stuck here.”

“Spirits,” Mingi echoed, realization dawned on him.

Maybe he couldn’t see them, but he certainly could hear them.

“Yes,” Eunji said encouragingly. “The voices you’ve been hearing all your life. They’re spirits.”

It should have scared him, but instead it was like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

“Oh.” He frowned. “Why can’t I see them?”

“Only the women in our family can,” Aunt Yeeun said, matter-of-factly, but it sounded arrogant.

Kyunghee glared at her older sister, but didn’t comment on it. When she caught Mingi looking at her, she smiled. 

“Even if you can’t see them, little prince, sharpen your ears. They might want to tell you something.”

Mingi shivered, whether it was the cold or the idea that the voices he had heard his entire life belonged to spirits: ghosts of people that had just died, or spirits that were lost and stuck in a place they should have left long ago.

Despite his fear, he stood still and closed his eyes. It took him some time to calm his mind enough to catch the faint whispers around him. There were so many: a cacophony of loud and disquieted voices piercing through the otherwise quiet night. They sounded like a howling storm.

_Where am I? Can you tell me where I am? I’m supposed to meet my husband at the altar…_

_Child, it’s way past your bedtime!_

_I’m scared; what’s going on?_

_Why am I here? It’s not my time. They said it isn’t my time yet!_

_Son, you’ve grown up so much._ Mingi’s eyes snapped open.

“Dad?” Tears welled up in his eyes. He heard a faint, _yes_ ; it sounded louder and closer than the other whispers in the night. “I miss you.”

_I miss you too, Mingi._

“Dad…” he said again, but his voice died out. 

Then something unimaginable happened. Mingi saw one, a spirit.

It was of a boy, around seventeen or eighteen. He had curly brown hair, wearing a leather jacket over a plaid shirt, and simple jeans. Blood was splattered on his white t-shirt. The boy seemed lost and perturbed, as if he didn’t quite understand what he was doing there. The boy didn’t appear to be seeing the other spirits either as he approached Mingi’s grandmother, Eunae.

“Excuse me?” he asked gently even in his panicked state. “Can you tell me if it worked?” He looked around himself, his eyes drifting over the creek and the bed of flowers. “Have I crossed the gates?” He gestured at the willow as if that explained anything. “Did it work?”

Mingi’s grandmother dropped her candle.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said in a terrified voice. From across the creek her eyes caught onto Mingi.

“P-Pardon?” the boy stuttered, frowning deeply. “I need to know if it worked! The sacrifice has to be me! Tell him it has to be me!” he exclaimed desperately.

“No, this can’t be,” Eunae sounded so much in despair, tears rolling down her cheeks. “This has to be a mistake! It was supposed to be over!”

It was unlike her to be so undone and have an utterly broken look on her face. She kept her eyes on Mingi, which was only spooking him out further, and slowly her sorrow was spreading over to him. He felt his own tears become hotter and roll down his cheeks, melting the coldness that clung to him from the spirits’ presence.

“Mother, you know that there are never mistakes,” Yeeun spoke softly, but she threw a pitiful glance at Mingi. “If he is here that means…” she trailed off, the look in her eyes changing to something Mingi couldn’t decipher. “That means the curse was never lifted.”

Now Eunji and Kyunghee were also aware of the strange boy crossing the clearing. The closer he came to Mingi, the more Mingi grew afraid. His heart was beating wildly and he was shaking like a leaf. Hot wax was pouring down on his hands as he held the candle slightly tilted.

“Mingi!” his mother said urgently. “Can you see him?” she asked, uselessly so as they all already knew he did. “Can you see that boy?”

“Yes,” Mingi replied nonetheless.

Kyunghee let out a wail, her hand coming around Mingi to hug him—to shelter him from the boy, Mingi realized.

“Go away!” she yelled at him. “I already sacrificed… I was the last…” she muttered under her breath.

“Kyunghee…” Aunt Yeeun said sharply. “You can’t—This is _not_ how this works!” she protested.

“What’s happening?” Mingi managed to ask past the knot in his throat.

The boy whipped his head in Mingi’s direction, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. His lips moved soundlessly.

 _My name_ , Mingi caught, _he’s saying my name_.

With a distant and broken voice, Aunt Eunji spoke, it sounded as if she was reciting something, “‘ _On the thirteenth, the last will find the true love that will burn brighter than any flame. On the thirteenth, the last will find the true love that will wither before loving eyes, unforgettable until the very last breath._ ’”

“W-What?”

“The last,” Eunae repeated, her eyebrows furrowed in sorrow as she still had her eyes on Mingi. “The last will lift the curse.” Her eyes flickered between Mingi and Kyunghee.

Then Eunji blinked and moved her head to look directly at Mingi. Her eyes were white and her face completely rigid, as if she was a statute. “‘ _The true love will die, their blood on the last’s hands._ ’”

Mingi stared at the boy, at the blood on his t-shirt, realizing it was his own.

Yeeun approached her worriedly. “Eunji…” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake her sister out of her trance. 

Aunt Eunji blinked in confusion. “What? What happened?”

“You blacked out, dear,” Eunae said. “You…” She glanced at Mingi uneasily.

Suddenly the boy collapsed on the bed of white flowers. He flickered once, then he disappeared.

The spirits around them were confused and scared and outraged.

 _It’s not what it seems, Mingi, it’s not what it seems_ , his father’s voice echoed before it faded.

At home, Mingi took a hot bath and tried to calm himself down as the four women reunited in the kitchen. Once he was done, he wanted to join them, but their hushed and unsettled voices made him linger by the door so he could listen in.

“It’s him… It’s always been him,” Kyunghee was saying. She looked undone, tears still swimming in her eyes as she cried on and off. She looked as spooked as Mingi felt. “Mingi is the last.”

“Kyunghee,” Eunae tried to soothe her. “We don’t know for sure what happened. It was a spirit echo, it could mean—”

“Mother, I have to agree with Kyunghee,” Yeeun interjected. “It’s unlikely for Mingi to see a spirit echo unless it’s his true love.”

Aunt Eunji was quiet, staring out of the window with a thoughtful look on her face.

“This means… I was never the last. His sacrifice was in vain,” Kyunghee whispered so brokenly.

Yeeun moved forward to wrap the youngest sister into her arms. She wasn’t usually an affectionate person. There were tears swimming in her eyes as she comforted Kyunghee.

“Should we tell Mingi?” Yeeun asked, her voice firm. “That boy we saw, he couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Five years from now…”

“Mingi’s too young,” Eunji spoke up for the first time.

Kyunghee sighed heavily. “I’ll talk with him about this.”

Eunae moved to the kitchen counter to prepare some tea. Yeeun stood up and walked out into their small back garden to smoke.

Mingi decided to reveal himself. He hesitantly walked into the kitchen.

“Mom, who was that boy?” he asked. 

Kyunghee sighed. She was now nursing one of Eunae’s hot cups of tea, picking at her purple nail paint. Eunji was cooking them something to lift their spirits.

( _Ha! Spirits,_ Mingi thought bitterly.)

His mother looked at him, tenderly brushing his dark brown hair back. She looked at him with so much care, so much sorrow. Whatever had happened on the clearing had broken her heart; not just hers, but her sisters’ and mother’s too.

“That boy,” she started, “is going to be your true love, Mingi.” He stared at her speechlessly. “But that love might not have a happy ending,” she continued, her face was shadowed as she glanced out of the kitchen window. “It’s going to be a love so beautiful, so strong, but like a lit match it’ll burn up all too quickly.”

“What did Aunt Eunji mean? The words she spoke, what did they mean? ” Mingi asked, shaking as he feared the worst.

Kyunghee stared at him briefly before she recited the words her sister had. They felt just as confusing and heavy as they had on the clearing.

“They’re lines of a curse,” she explained. She looked at Mingi. Her eyes looked so sad, tears welling up in them. It was difficult for her to talk about. “We can’t be with our true love. It’s too painful because if we ever are with them the love dies.”

His heart was galloping in his chest.

“Dad…” he began, searching for his words, but failed to find any. “Was he your true love?”

Kyunghee grabbed her mug so tightly it broke in her hands, scalding hot tea spilled over her fingers and porcelain shards dug into her palms. She didn’t even flinch. 

“Kyunghee!” Eunae rushed forward, taking the pieces away and throwing a napkin at Mingi so he could help clean Kyunghee’s hands.

“Yes,” Kyunghee said, her voice rough. “The curse states the last’s true love will die because of them. Your father sacrificed himself. He knew when the time was right. He went into your room and kissed you goodbye before he left,” she retold. Her voice was shaking now. “He loved you so dearly.”

Mingi wanted to cry. They never spoke much about Mingi’s father, but to hear those words caused great pain to him.

“Why were you with him if you knew? If _he_ knew?” Mingi asked.

“Because once you meet that love, it’s impossible not to experience it,” Kyunghee responded, carefully wiping her tears away as Eunji had put plasters on her wounds. Her hands were red with burning marks now. “We decided the love was more important than the curse.”

“The curse,” Mingi echoed. 

Kyunghee nodded.

“It’s an ancient family curse. Some of us aren’t affected, like your grandmother, but others—Well, we aren’t so lucky,” Aunt Eunji replied in place of her sister. Mingi frowned, for all he knew Eunji never had married or lost a loved one. She seemed to sense his confusion, and smiled gently albeit a little sadly. “I met the love of my life when I was about twenty-three. She was everything to me. I never kissed her, and we have become good friends over the years. The pain is bearable,” her smile flickered, “but sometimes it’s still soul-burning.”

“So I can’t kiss him—the boy on the clearing?”

“No.” Kyunghee shook her head. “Not unless you are ready to lose him, to take that burden upon yourself.”

Silence fell over the small kitchen. A thunderstorm was brewing outside, lightning hushed over the sky. Eunae had joined Yeeun outside in the back garden.

“The burden…” he repeated his mother’s words. He looked at Eunji then. “When you said, ‘ _The true love will die, their blood on the last’s hands._ ’ What did you mean? Is it part of the family curse?” he asked, hoping for a reply, but it never came. “Am I the last?”

Aunt Eunji put a plate of food in front of him, it smelled like cinnamon and everything good in the world. 

She messed up his hair fondly. “You’re still young. Don’t think about it too much.”

Kyunghee watched them warily, but she didn’t say anything else. She got up to make herself another cup of tea. Eunji slid into the seat on Mingi’s other side.

“You should stay home tomorrow,” she said. “It’s a perk of All Hallows Eve: tomorrow is a resting day for us. Of course you could stay home on Friday too. Make it an extended weekend…” She glanced at Kyunghee.

Mingi hummed, noncommittal. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts, too far away to even _think_ of school. It sounded so mundane and unimportant now that he had discovered the family secret, a family curse, and found out about _his true love._

“Usually I would tell you not to spoil him like that,” Kyunghee said. “But this is an exception. If you want, you can stay home, Mingi. It’s up to you.”

“I’ll stay home,” he said firmly.

It had to be around three in the morning when Mingi lay himself to bed—finally under the covers—surrounded by his plushies as though they could protect him.

He didn’t really feel tired. Well, no, he _was_. He was incredibly worn out, but at the same time his mind was high wired. He kept hearing a phantom of the spirits’ voices, and the boy kept flashing in front of his eyes. The blood on his shirt, his worried words, his expression when he had seen Mingi, and lastly his flickering body.

_Who was this boy? Where was he right now? When would they meet? Would Mingi kill him?_

With all the thoughts and questions running around in his mind, and the incense stick his mother had lid up, Mingi slowly fell into a restless sleep. The last thing he heard were the sirens of an ambulance piercing through the rumbling of the thunder.

**~*~**

The Monday after All Hallows Eve was an odd on.

Mingi climbed into the bus with a preoccupied mind, the events of the 31st of October hadn’t left his mind. Nightmares of the boy—his true love—kept plaguing his mind, the blood on his white t-shirt stood out starkly against the darkness of the night. 

Mingi had spent the entire weekend drawing sketches of the clearing and of the boy, and written down the words Aunt Eunji had spoken. Underlying the part that scared him the most as a reminder: ‘ _The true love will die, their blood on the last’s hands._ ’

He had tried to get some truth out of his aunts and grandmother as his mother didn’t budge, but they gave him vague answers. Aunt Eunji kept claiming he was too young to know.

He was dragged out of his thoughts when his best and only friend slid into the seat next to him. Kang Yeosang was as strange as Mingi felt. He lived a few houses up the road.

They had met during their elementary school days and now that they attended middle school, they stuck together to survive the experience; somewhere down the line they had decided to roll with it and call one another ‘friend’. 

They were like ghosts in school just like they always had been: no one really bothered or acknowledged them; sometimes Mingi believed no one even knew they existed.

“Have you heard?” Yeosang asked. He pulled out two small juice boxes (multivitamin) and handed one to Mingi.

“Heard what?”

“Jeong Wooyoung,” Yeosang said. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t place a face to the name. “He came in on Friday and wore all black. I almost didn’t recognize him.”

Mingi hummed, not particularly interested in this gossip.

But it was hard escaping the Jeong Wooyoung rumors as they were spreading around school like a wildfire, and when Mingi finally saw him in between the crowd, his heart stopped. 

He had always heard of Wooyoung, a shy boy living with strange parents, but he had never seen him. Their paths had never crossed until that morning.

He wasn’t what Mingi had pictured.

Wooyoung stood in the hallway with a busted lip, his eyes rimmed with eyeliner. He passed his hand over his bloody lip, black nail polish glistening in the hallway lights. His dark brown eyes caught on to Mingi’s, a peculiar glint in them, as if he was appraising Mingi.

Mingi’s lungs hurt as he was holding his breath.

The world seemed to freeze around them. All he could see was that boy dressed in black, his eyes entrancing Mingi. He was beautiful.

Then someone bumped their shoulder into Mingi’s, making him stumble, and he lost sight of Wooyoung.

“Told you he has changed,” Yeosang said. “He looks scary.”

“Yeah,” Mingi breathed, not really catching Yeosang’s words.

His heart was beating so quickly he was scared it would tire out, and his hands were trembling. His mind was so loud. He didn’t know what was happening. It felt as if he had just witnessed something very important, something he wasn’t meant to forget.

He swallowed.

“No one knows what happened to him, why he suddenly changed,” Yeosang kept saying. “Some say it has to do with his friend, who fell sick last Thursday.”

“His friend?” Mingi echoed.

“Some guy named Yunho. They live together. Yunho’s still in the hospital. No one knows the details since Wooyoung’s parents are kinda secretive about the whole thing.” Yeosang shrugged. “Come on, let’s get to class before we’re scolded for being late.”

Mingi couldn’t move, his limbs still shaking from the shock of seeing Wooyoung. 

“Are you okay?” Yeosang inquired. He tilted his head to study Mingi. He looked worried. “Do you need to see the nurse?”

Mingi managed to nod his head. Yeosang grabbed his arm and gently dragged him to the nurse’s office. He pushed him inside. The nurse moved away from someone she was seeing to take in Mingi.

“What happened to him?” she asked Yeosang.

Yeosang shrugged, muttering something that sounded like, ‘I don’t know.’

The nurse sighed tiredly. “Get to class,” she ordered Yeosang, who shot Mingi one last worried glance before he walked off, hitching his bag higher up on his shoulder.

Yeosang spotted someone in the hallway and sprinted over. “San! Choi San! Don’t ignore me, nerd!”

Mingi let the nurse drag him toward one of the beds. She sat him down and offered him a glass of water.

“What happened?” she asked in a soft tone.

Mingi shrugged. “I just, I saw—” He froze as his gaze locked with the other person in the nurse’s office. Wooyoung. He sat on another bed, his legs dangling. There was a pflaster on his busted lips and he was busy unwrapping a lollipop. He grinned lopsidedly at Mingi. Mingi’s heart stuttered in his chest. He cleared his throat, and looked away. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You seem to be fine,” she said, a little perplexed. “How about you go back to class? What do you have?”

“History.”

She turned to look at Wooyoung. “Didn’t you say you have History too? You two should go together.”

“Sure.” Wooyoung jumped down from the bed. He waited for Mingi to come with him. A little slow and hesitant, Mingi followed him out of the nurse’s office. He was still trembling, but not as shocked anymore. “What’s your name?”

“Mingi.”

“I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself, offering Mingi his hand. Gingerly, Mingi took it. He felt sparks travel up his fingers, numbing him. “ _Whoah_ ,” Wooyoung whispered, letting go. He laughed nervously.

“How come I’ve never seen you in History class before?” Mingi decided to ask.

“I used to take advanced classes. I dropped out on Friday,” he explained, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

“Why did you drop out?”

Wooyoung remained quiet for a long time. When they stood in front of their classroom, he looked at Mingi, studying him.

“Things changed at home.”

“Huh?”

“The reason I dropped out. My living situation took an unexpected turn,” Wooyoung clarified. “I don’t want to fit in anymore.”

Mingi was stupefied. He didn’t know what to say. 

Their teacher didn’t scold them after they explained him they had been in the nurse’s office. Mingi quickly sat next to Yeosang, ignoring the curious glances he got for walking in with Wooyoung. Their class carried on, but Mingi could barely focus. There was too much running through his mind. He tuned in when their teacher announced a project they were meant to absolve in groups of 3-4. 

Mingi clung to Yeosang’s side, looking around in search for a third person they could include.

“We could ask San,” Yeosang said, pointing at the boy sitting in the front of the classroom. “He is an obnoxious know-it-all, but he might be useful.”

Before the two could make an attempt to approach Choi San, they were intercepted by none other than Wooyoung.

“You two look like you could use a third participant.”

Mingi looked at Yeosang for approval, who shrugged and muttered a very unintelligible, ‘Whatever.’

“Um, okay,” Mingi agreed.

The grin Wooyoung flashed them was slightly intimidating with his busted lip. 

During lunch, the cafeteria was a crowded mess that they liked to observed from outside as they ate silently under a tree—a willow of all trees, Mingi noticed.

“So what have you two been up to these years? I don’t think I have ever seen you around much,” Wooyoung wondered curiously.

“Uh…” Mingi let out as he exchanged a look with Yeosang. What _did_ they do?

Yeosang liked skating and wearing his dad’s oversized clothes, and spray paint forlorn walls near the forest with cryptic messages that no one understood except for Yeosang—and sometimes Mingi. He liked to not study and pass his tests with above average grades, and to make cheeky and sarcastic comments under his breath that no one caught with the exception of Mingi because Yeosang claimed no one deserved to hear his humor except for his friend(s).

And Mingi? Well, Mingi liked to sketch and read. He liked to get good grades through studying and learning. He liked to wear his dad’s oversized clothes too, except he had grown in the past year so they weren’t as oversized anymore. He liked to cook with his grandmother. He liked the _séances_ his mother and aunts did when they had a customer, which they allowed Mingi to sit through so he could learn.

“Nothing really,” Mingi said.

Yeosang vaguely agreed with Mingi, muttering quietly, “Not like you could do anything interesting here anyway.”

Wooyoung stared at them as if he had just found a gold mine.

“We’re going to be good friends!” he said, it sounded like a promise and like a lot of danger. 

Yeosang gave him a look that said, ‘If he makes us go into the forest to worship Satan, I’m out’. 

Mingi nervously chuckled. If Yeosang only knew about Mingi’s family secret.

Yeosang unwrapped his sandwich, peeling off pieces of oiled napkin. He cleared his throat. “So… About the project, where do we meet?”

Wooyoung stiffened. “Not at mine,” he said immediately.

Yeosang frowned.

“Mine would be okay,” Mingi offered, shrugging half heartedly.

Aunt Yeeun would make various disgruntled commentaries, but Eunji and Eunae would be delighted for Mingi to invite over classmates. They always asked him about his friends.

“Sounds good to me,” Yeosang said, biting into his greasy sandwich.

Days later, Mingi showed Yeosang and Wooyoung into his house, he only felt mildly embarrassed about the pile of laundry that sat atop the kitchen table, and the discarded socks on the staircase that most likely Aunt Eunji had thrown there, too lazy to walk to the laundry room. Mingi had learned to live in this mild chaos, often leaving his own clothes scattered all about, but it was different having people over. Especially since it was such a rare occasion.

Yeeun and Eunji were in the living room, having a _séance_ , so they walked quietly past it. Eunae and Kyunghee were in the back garden, nursing each a cup of tea.

“There are cookies in the oven!” called Kyunghee when she saw Mingi lingering in the kitchen with his friends. “Help yourselves!”

“Where is your dad?” Wooyoung asked when they entered Mingi’s bedroom.

“He’s dead,” Mingi replied as he unpacked his school bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wooyoung said guiltily.

Mingi shrugged. 

Yeosang sprawled out on the bed, his hand on his hip. 

“Is this giving you Titanic-paint-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls vibes?” he asked, successfully diverting the attention.

“It’s giving me I’ll-punch-you vibes,” Wooyoung said, scrunching up his nose. He looked around Mingi’s room curiously, his eyes falling on the sketches Mingi had done over the weekend, of the boy and the clearing.

Wooyoung stared at it, perplexed.

“Who is this?” he asked.

Mingi swallowed. “Someone I dreamed about,” he lied. 

“He looks familiar,” Wooyoung said. He had his head tilted, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the drawing.

Mingi’s heart skipped a beat, the air leaving his lungs.

“He does?” he squeaked out.

“Yeah…”

“Maybe it’s one of those faces. You know?” Yeosang said. “The ones we keep seeing in a crowd or whatever.”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung agreed, but his eyes lingered.

The anxiety that Mingi had felt on the clearing the previous week came crashing back. The blood on the boy’s t-shirt and Aunt Eunji’s words, about the family curse. He stared at the sketch as well. It wasn’t done in perfection, based on his memory of the boy, but the fear in his eyes was so palpable. The boy had recognized Mingi, which meant that whenever the boy died he already knew Mingi.

The inevitability of what was going to happen in a few years, whenever it was he would meet the boy, made his heart shake and his lungs constrict.

Even if Eunae had tried to calm him down, saying that the spirit had been an echo of the future and wasn’t entirely accurate—more of a warning than anything else—he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The blood on the t-shirt, the verse that claimed he’d kill his true love… 

“Mingi?” Wooyoung asked worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Wooyoung was now sitting on the bed, next to Yeosang, and looking up at Mingi with concern dancing in his brown eyes.

Mingi stilled, staring back. The sunlight was shimmering into his room, through his pale yellow curtains. The light made the color of Wooyoung’s eyes lighter, not their almost pitch black tone, instead they turned the shade of the world during a sunset. It was the color Mingi could observe from his window when he looked at the forest behind their house, the trees would turn a strange mix of green, orange, and brown and their bark shimmered beautifully in the setting sun. 

The moment threw him off-kilter.

“Mingi?” Wooyoung repeated. He sat upright, snapping his fingers in front of Mingi.

“He’s been possessed,” Yeosang said.

“Shut up!” Wooyoung hissed. “Does this happen to him often?”

Yeosang mumbled unintelligibly, as he so often did.

“I’m… fine,” Mingi assured them. He looked away from Wooyoung, and shook himself as if ice had been poured down his back. 

“What happened?”

“I remembered something. Doesn’t matter.”

Wooyoung nodded his head. “I know we aren’t that close yet, but you can tell me anything.” 

He said it with so much eagerness and honesty that Mingi wholly believed it. He could tell Wooyoung anything.

 _What am I doing?_ He questioned himself. There was that boy on the clearing, his true love; why did his heart feel at peace when he looked at Wooyoung? Wasn’t that supposed to be how he’d feel once he met his true love?

**~*~**

At fourteen, All Hallows Even became a tragedy.

This time the cloak was a little easier to wear since Mingi had grown considerably since last year. He held the candle firmer in his hands, and when they reached the clearing he wasn’t as overwhelmed by the cold. 

He listened to the spirits attentively, trying to soothe them as best as he could and prepare them to cross the Gates of Death, as he had learned the flower bed on the clearing was called. The Gates of Death, the ones his father had crossed years ago in sacrifice to end the family curse. 

But Mingi knew his death had been in vain because Mingi was the last. He wished he could speak about it with his mother or aunts or grandmother, but they shut down any question he had regarding the topic. It had become taboo to talk about the boy on the clearing and the family curse. They claimed he was too young still.

“You’re doing great,” Eunae said, smiling at him from the portable chair they had brought. She looked thinner under the moonlight, her cheekbones standing out.

Mingi smiled nervously.

Eunji winked at him from afar. Even Yeeun looked proud of him.

Everything went well, no strange appearances of spirit echoes that turned out to be someone’s true love, but then Eunae stiffened in her seat, dropping her candle. The flame extinguished in the mist and snow, and darkness surrounded Mingi’s grandmother.

“It’s here,” she said, her voice strained. “Death is here.”

Yeeun rushed over to her. “What do you mean, mother?”

“Death is here,” Eunae repeated. “It came.”

Kyunghee frowned, confused. “It came? Why?”

“I requested it.” Grandmother Eunae stood up and walked to the bed of white flowers as if she was welcoming a long lost friend. “I managed to find a solution to the little prince’s problem,” she explained, although Mingi didn’t understand much. “He can save the boy he saw last year. When the time is right, he’ll know what to do.”

“ _Mother_!” Yeeun protested, trying to stop her.

“Could you please explain what you mean?” Aunt Eunji begged their mother, but Eunae shook her head.

“It will all make sense in due time,” she only said. “Now, I must go. It was part of my bargain, my soul for that boy’s safety.”

Mingi stood frozen on the clearing, staring at the same place he had seen the boy’s spirit fall last year, flickering before he had disappeared. Eunae collapsed all of a sudden.

“No!” Yeeun cried. She sprinted over the clearing toward her mother.

Eunji gasped. “She couldn’t have—” she stuttered, following Yeeun. 

But it was too late, their mother had crossed the Gates of Death.

Mingi stared at the scene, utterly confused and heartbroken. Kyunghee was now by his side, hugging him tightly to his chest.

“It’ll be okay, Mingi,” she said. She didn’t sound surprised. “She took her decision.”

Faintly, Mingi could hear his father’s voice whispering to him, _She shouldn’t have, it’s a mistake._

Mingi shivered, the coldness so much stronger now.

 _He_ has _to be the sacrifice, Mingi._

No, Mingi thought. He would do whatever he could to save his true love; he wouldn’t let Grandmother Eunae’s bargain be in vain.

**~*~**

When Mingi’s third All Hallows Eve came, he was a little scared that something horrible would happen. After his first time, in which he had seen the spirit echo of his true love and the following year his grandmother had died in the strangest circumstances, he was a little on edge about what could happen that year. His mother and aunts appeared to be just as nervous when they welcomed the spirits.

Everything was just as it had been the two years before. Mingi stared at the beds of white flowers, where he had seen his true love for the first time, where his grandmother had collapsed, crossing the Gates of Death. 

Part of Mingi expected the boy to make an appearance, but nothing happened.

In between the voices of the spirits, he distinguished his father’s, who came to him with an important message.

_Mingi, my son, remember it’s not what it seems. Let fate flow its natural course._

A little taken back, Mingi asked, “Dad, what do you mean?”

 _As the barrier closes, the last to face the trials shall do so through burning sacrifice, changing the threads forever,_ his father spoke, but his voice sounded strange, as if it wasn’t his own. It sent a shiver down Mingi’s spine.

“W-What do you mean?” he repeated, but his father didn’t say anything else, instead the whispers of the confused spirits surrounded him, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the thin layer of snow on the ground wet his jeans and soon coldness seeped through the thick material, freezing his bones. He didn’t move.

“Mingi!” Kyunghee called out worriedly. She jogged over to him. “What happened?”

“Dad… He said something to me.” Mingi repeated his father’s words to her. “What did he mean? What does any of this mean?”

Kyunghee had a helpless look on her face; scared, she turned to look at her sisters.

“We can’t wait any longer, we have to tell him,” she said urgently.

Aunt Eunji didn’t look happy, but she nodded her head.

“When we get home,” Yeeun said. “We have a duty to the spirits.”

Kyunghee nodded her head, but when she turned to Mingi she said, “Why don’t you go home, little prince? We will come at midnight and answer your questions. I promise.”

Mingi hesitated for a second, but agreed.

It was an eerie walk through the forest alone, the whispers of the spirits became quieter and quieter the further away he walked from the clearing.

A figure stood under his front porch light and for a second Mingi was scared it was another spirit echo of his true love, that the boy made another appearance, but when he got closer he realized it was only Wooyoung.

His friend looked pale under the light, and without the make-up he appeared younger.

“Mingi,” he said surprised. “I… Sorry for coming so unexpectedly.” He tilted his head, taking in the cloak around Mingi’s shoulder and the extinguished candle in his hands. “Where were you?”

“Uh…” Mingi hesitated. “In the forest. It’s a family thing.”

Wooyoung stared at him, then cracked a smile. “Guess we both have weird families, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Mingi unlocked the front door, walking in; he let Wooyoung in behind him.

“Do you want anything to drink? Eat?”

Wooyoung shrugged.

Under the kitchen light, Mingi noticed for the first time his split lip and the sort of emptiness in his eyes. It wasn’t an usual sight for Wooyoung to have a split lip or a purple eye, or even a broken nose, but usually he sported those at school. It was a Saturday.

He swallowed his curious question.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead.

Wooyoung stiffened; he had been inspecting the cat calendar on their fridge. 

“It was weird at home,” he replied with another shrug. “My friend’s sickness got really bad. They had to take him to the hospital.”

“Your friend?”

Wooyoung nodded his head. “He’s the son of close friends of my parents. When they died, my parents took him in,” he explained. “He’s our age, but because of his sickness he has never come to school. They say he’ll probably die in a few years, maybe when he’s seventeen or eighteen.”

Mingi’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was holding. He shook his head. _A coincidence_ , he told himself, _it’s just a coincidence._

The two boys sat down on Mingi’s couch, packed with snacks and drinks, and turned on some shitty horror movie playing that was definitely not for fifteen year old boys, but they cuddled one another and pretended they were a lot braver than they really were. It was silly, really, how badly Mingi wanted to impress Wooyoung.

It was almost midnight, his mother and aunts would be back soon, but Mingi didn’t dare to move. He didn’t want to disrupt Wooyoung’s sleep. He looked peaceful for once, but even so, the lines of something sinister and melancholic lingered on his face. He kept shivering, clinging to Mingi’s sweatshirt.

Mingi reached out his hand bravely and passed it through Wooyoung’s pitch black hair, he noticed it naturally curled by the ends. Usually, Wooyoung did a great job straightening it.

A want of some kind blossomed in Mingi’s heart. He wasn’t too sure of its meaning or implications. Or, more accurately, it shouldn’t be possible. Mingi’s true love was the boy on the clearing, the one he had yet to meet.

It shouldn’t be possible that his heart yearned for Wooyoung, that the air got caught in his lungs as he stared at the boy in his arms and studied his face, and found him beautiful. That Wooyoung’s scent made his mind feel so at ease.

It shouldn’t be possible.

It was comical how badly Mingi startled when the front door opened and Kyunghee, Eunji, and Yeeun walked through, talking at a normal volume to each other, but it sounded a lot louder.

Wooyoung blinked in confusion, detaching himself from Mingi.

“Ah, Wooyoung,” Eunji said kindly. “What an unexpected visit.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave immediately,” Wooyoung said.

“Nonsense!” Kyunghee exclaimed. She seemed glad to have an excuse to move the dreadful conversation to the following morning. “Stay the night.”

Yeeun eyed the two boys with a strange expression. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her lips a thin line. Mingi feared she had caught up to his confusing feelings, that she knew his heart was wavering and he was falling in love with Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, who wasn’t his true love.

The two boys trudged up to Mingi’s room, taking the cinnamon buns Aunt Eunji offered to them. Sleepily, they undressed and put on pajamas. Wooyoung looked adorable in Mingi’s oversized clothes.

“Good night,” Mingi whispered. 

“Good night,” Wooyoung said back.

They were facing each other and, as Mingi’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out his and Wooyoung’s hands only resting millimeters apart. He wanted to reach out so badly.

Tormented by his confusing feelings, and the words his father had spoken on the clearing, Mingi drifted off to sleep. He was visited by Grandmother Eunae in his dreams, she looked sorrowful. She whispered to him, ‘It’s not him. Don’t kiss him.’

“Your great-great-grandmother was the one that got cursed: the true love, once met and kissed, would fade out and leave us in pain. The last one to face this curse will break it, but only through a great sacrifice. They’ll be the one to suffer the consequences the most, and they’ll be the ones to kill their true love,” Kyunghee explained, her voice unusually empty. “Since you’re the last… It means you’re the one to kill him, Mingi.”

He had suspected as much. Even if they had tried to protect him of the truth, Mingi had known. He’d kill his true love. He hated how terrified it made him feel, how inhumane it made him look at himself in the mirror. _A murderer_ , his reflection called him.

“‘Kill’ is a strong word,” Aunt Yeeun tried to calm him down.

Kyunghee agreed, then continued, “But it is true that the last’s true love will die because of them, or for them…” Her face looked troubled, she looked at the photograph that stood by the kitchen’s window, that showed Mingi’s father. “I always thought that I was the last. I was the thirteenth to face the curse, so we thought… We thought I was the last. Your father… I thought that his sacrifice had lifted the curse…” she trailed off, unable to speak. Mingi remembered her words about his father crossing the Gates of Death, sacrificing himself. 

Tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes, followed by a light thrumming in his skull that threatened to shatter it.

“Is there any way for me to save him?” he asked quietly. “Grandmother Eunae said last year she had made a bargain with Death. Her life for the safety of that boy.”

Kyunghee bit her lip. “We don’t really know what mother meant when she said that… She said you’d know. When the time is right you’d know.”

Yeeun frowned. “I still don’t understand why she did that. It doesn’t make sense Death would accept her sacrifice and save Mingi’s true love…”

Aunt Eunji glared at her. “Don’t be so negative!” she chastised.

Yeeun tensed, she looked older somehow, the lines in her face deeper. “You know well this curse is unbreakable. You know how hard I tried to…” She shook her head. “I just don’t want Mingi to get his hopes up.”

Mingi laughed empitly. “Nothing of this is giving me any hope.”

Kyunghee sighed.

“What did your father say on the clearing yesterday?” she asked suddenly. “I forgot the exact words. It might give us a clue about mother’s bargain.”

“‘ _As the barrier closes, the last to face the trials shall do so through burning sacrifice, changing the threads forever,_ ’” Mingi recited.

“Burning sacrifice,” Yeeun repeated in a scoff. “That does not sound good. That does not sound like anything was fixed.”

“Changing the threads forever…” Eunji echoed. “It could mean you’ll break the curse.”

“As the last one, he’ll break it one way or another,” Yeeun insisted. “It doesn’t sound hopeful to me. Just another reaffirmation that his true love will die, no matter what he does.”

Mingi’s heart was galloping in pain. 

Yeeun stood up, walking out into the back garden to smoke a cigarette. The conversation clearly had unsettled her.

“You have to forgive her,” Kyunghee spoke, softly shaking her head. “She once tried to trick the curse, as a consequence Death took her true love. She’s grown bitter over time. Not that I can blame her.”

Mingi watched Yeeun’s silhouette through the window. His heart hurt.

“What do you suggest I do?” Mingi asked.

“First, you have to meet him,” Kyunghee said. “Then, well, I’m not sure… Eunae said you’d know.”

“That’s so vague,” Mingi protested.

“I know, little prince, I know.”

Aunt Eunji looked at him in sympathy. “Why don’t you go take a walk? Meet with your friends and distract yourself of this? There’s no use in splitting your pretty head over this. For now, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Mingi sighed, feeling frustrated, but Aunt Eunji was right. He hadn’t even met his true love and he was already trying to save him. Maybe he’d really know once the time was right.

When Mingi was in their garage, getting his skateboard so he could meet with Yeosang and Wooyoung at the skatepark, a figure loomed at the door’s frame, watching him. He turned, startled, and let out a sigh of relief when he realized it was only Aunt Yeeun.

“Mingi, I’m sorry for earlier,” she apologized softly. It was so unlike her. “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. Your mother was so inconsolable when your father died.” Mingi tightened his hand around the safety helmet he was holding. He remembered faintly how his mother spent months in her room, barely eating, barely doing anything. It had been horrible. Mingi had been so scared he’d lose his mother too. “I wanted to ask you something, Mingi.”

“What is it?” 

Yeeun had that same peculiar look on her face as the previous night, when she’d looked at Wooyoung and Mingi cuddling on the couch. 

“Are you sure you haven’t met your true love?”

“I am,” Mingi said, frowning. “You know what my true love looks like, and I haven’t met him.”

“The boy on the clearing…” she repeated, her voice a little far away as though she was thinking of something. “Will you promise me you’ll tell us once you meet him?”

“I promise.”

“Alright, well…” She looked uncomfortable now, and annoyed. “Have fun with Yeosang and… Wooyoung.” The way she said Wooyoung’s name, testing it out on her tongue, testing Mingi’s reaction to it, made him feel unsafe, like the ground was opening up under his feet and he’d fall any moment.

“Thank you.”

He pretty much fled the garage, his skin prickling uncomfortably under the pale afternoon sun. 

_Mingi, my son, remember it’s not what it seems. Let fate flow its natural course._ His father’s words echoed in his mind, but they still made no sense.

Then there had been the words his grandmother had said to him in his dreams the night before, which unsettled him greatly, but made even less sense than his father’s words, if that was even possible. 

‘It’s not him. Don’t kiss him.’

**~*~**

Mingi’s third All Hallows Eve went a little differently. 

He talked to his mother and his aunts about staying home that year. After the experiences of the past three years, he didn’t feel too good about revisiting the clearing anew. They agreed easier than he had planned, which made him feel less guilty when he invited Yeosang and Wooyoung over for a horror movie marathon.

Hours before midnight, Kyunghee, Eunji, and Yeeun left the house with their cloaks and candles. Partly, Mingi felt bad about not joining them. Despite the terrible events the previous years, he had gotten to like being part of this family secret. He had felt a sense of purpose guiding the lost souls.

But at the same time he wished he could feel like a regular teenager for once, and he had promised himself that night he’d do what any teenager his age would: eat gross food and watch terrible horror movies with his friends.

It was dark outside when Yeosang and Wooyoung came, carrying grocery bags filled with chips and candy. 

“You won’t believe who we met at the grocery shop,” Yeosang said, dropping one of the bags in the kitchen. He walked around the house as if it was his own.

Mingi tilted his head expectantly. Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“Choi San!” Yeosang exclaimed. “He was getting off his shift. He probably doesn’t have any plans. Loser.”

Mingi hummed.

He wasn’t sure whether Yeosang liked or despised Choi San, the popular nerd.

“I recall you wanted to invite him to the hangout, but chickened out in the last second because, quote-unquote, he looked intimidatingly hot,” Wooyoung said with a teasing grin.

“That’s not true!” Yeosang insisted, his cheeks red. “I didn’t invite him because I wasn’t sure Mingi would like me inviting random strangers.”

“He is not a random stranger,” Mingi said. “You can still invite him. I know you have his phone number.”

Yeosang grumbled something under his breath, but he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

Wooyoung exchanged an amused glance with Mingi. 

“H-Hey,” Yeosang stuttered. He glared at his friends. “Hi, Choi San, this is Yeosang. We go to school together—Of course you know that. Anyway, my friends and I are having a movie marathon. You should come.” His cheeks turned red and Mingi thought he would hang up. “No, I don’t want you here. I’m just _saying_ , you probably don’t have anything planned because you’re lame. Okay, cool. I’ll text you Mingi’s address.” He hung up, taking in a deep breath. He faced his friends. “He’s coming!” he announced giddily, doing a bad job at hiding how excited he was.

They lingered around in the kitchen, entertaining themselves with small talk as they waited for San’s arrival. Half an hour later there was a knock on the door. Yeosang catapulted himself out of his seat, then hesitated, remembering this wasn’t his home. He gestured at Mingi.

“You can do the honors,” Mingi said with a laugh.

Yeosang opened the door, leaning against the wall. He looked taken aback.

“Uh.”

“Hi…” came San’s reply, he sounded embarrassed. “I thought this was a Halloween party so I dressed up…”

“No, yeah, valid.” Yeosang’s voice sounded strained. He stepped back to let San inside.

He wasn’t dressed up so much as he had applied makeup around his eyes and painted his lips blood red. Mingi supposed he was meant to be a vampire. He looked good, hence why Yeosang was acting so strangely. Mingi grinned.

“Sexy,” Wooyoung commented.

“Thanks,” San said dryly. “Why am I the only one dressed up?”

“Because you’re lame,” Yeosang said, but he was still caught up in staring at San, his face red. “This is a chill hangout where we watch movies. Trick and treating is for kids.”

“Fuck you.”

“Alright,” Mingi interrupted them. “Let’s get everything to my room.”

His words galvanized the three boys. They carried everything up the stairs, Yeosang protested under his breath, but no one paid him any attention. Mingi knew his friend was going through the difficult realization that Choi San was hot, a nerd, true, but a hot one. After all that teasing over the years, Yeosang finally had realized that too.

San started to appoint them roles, “Wooyoung, you should make the pizzas. Mingi, build the fort. Yeosang,” he said his name with a scowl, “help me set up the TV.”

“Stop bossing me around,” Yeosang complained, but he obeyed.

“On it!” Wooyoung took the frozen pizzas and headed downstairs.

Mingi transformed his bed into a pretty cool looking pillow fort, throwing a blanket over the construction. He set up the different bowls of candy and chips on a tray. He watched San and Yeosang connecting the TV, bickering as they fought over who knew more about technology. He was sure now that Yeosang liked San, there was no way he’d rile someone up that much for nothing.

“I’ll go search for Wooyoung,” Mingi said while Yeosang was struggling to set up the TV. He hummed distractedly in response.

“Give me that!” San said, annoyed, and took the remote control out of Yeosang’s hands. 

“Hey, I know what I was doing!” Yeosang insisted, trying to take the remote control back. 

The two boys fell onto the floor, limbs tangled and faces close. Mingi escaped quickly.

Wooyoung wasn’t in the kitchen as Mingi had thought. Their pizzas were in the oven though. He noticed movement from the back garden. He curiously opened the door.

“Wooyoung?” he asked.

“Yes. Sorry. I got distracted by the night sky.” He pointed his index finger at the Milky Way above them. “It’s breathtaking.”

Mingi joined him on the little bench. He looked up at the sky too. The Milky Way passed right over his house, it wasn’t as visible in other parts of the town as it was there, with the dark forest expanding for miles. Mingi never had thought it was something special.

Wooyoung was wrapped up in Mingi’s oversized poncho, it swallowed him whole. His black hair was a wild mess the night’s breeze had taken care of, and rid of the fierce make-up he looked younger, softer around the edges than usual.

Mingi’s heart stopped in his chest.

“It’s beautiful here,” Wooyoung continued, eyes still on the stars. “I feel so much freer here than…” he trailed off, a flash of pain in his eyes. “When I’m here I always forget I have a home.” It sounded wrong. “Being here makes me never want to go back,” he admitted quietly.

“Wooyoung… I’m sorry.” 

Mingi wasn’t entirely sure what his friend’s home situation was, but he knew Wooyoung’s parents weren’t kind to him, especially since that day he had dropped out of his advanced classes, when he had started riling up other students and gone home sporting a busted lip nearly every day.

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung assured him. “One day I’ll leave.” He turned away from the stars to look at Mingi. He scrunched up his nose in amusement. “Don’t look so spooked, Mingi.”

“I just… I wish it wasn’t like that,” he told him.

“Some things are inevitable.”

Mingi stiffened at that, thinking of the boy on the clearing. _Inevitable_.

“I don’t want to go in yet,” Wooyoung whispered, he wrapped the poncho tighter around himself and leaned against Mingi, their shoulders brushing. Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. The clearing vanished of his mind, the boy too. All he was aware of was Wooyoung next to him. “Do you know the stars above?”

Mingi glanced up. 

He could see Cassiopeia resting in the Milky Way, the easiest to spot. He pointed it out to Wooyoung. Then he leaned to the side, craning his neck so he could peek over the trees. The Great Bear was another easy one.

“During summer we can see Orion on the horizon,” he continued explaining. “In the morning, Venus appears right there.” He pointed toward the forest, Wooyoung followed the trajectory with his eyes.

“How do you know so much about stars?” he asked in wonderment.

“My aunts are very invested in the stars,” he explained. “They’ve taught me.”

“That must be nice.” Wooyoung smiled gently.

They were sitting closer, Mingi hovering over Wooyoung. He sat back, his back against the cool wooden bench, and folded his hands in his lap. He was overly aware of Wooyoung’s eyes on him.

He counted to three, terrified, and looked back.

Wooyoung held constellations of his own in his eyes. His irises were as dark as the night, the pale moonlight reflecting in them. The right side of his face was lit up by the kitchen light, the other side was dark.

Mingi held his breath. Wooyoung leaned forward, his eyes flickering down on Mingi’s lips.

He knew he had been falling in love with Wooyoung pretty much since the first day they had met in the nurse’s office three years ago; another inevitable thing. He had tried to fight it, and he had given into his wavering heart. He couldn’t ignore it, even if the boy on the clearing existed and the day they’d meet was inching closer with every sunrise and sunset. 

He couldn’t ignore the desperate desire to kiss Wooyoung.

Ignoring the jitters and the fear, he leaned forward too.

Underneath the pale moonlight and the stars, Mingi kissed Wooyoung.

It felt so right, everything in him tensed and let go, all pieces that didn’t make sense, that he felt insecure about suddenly fell into place and found a home. Everything he had doubted dissipated.

All he could feel were Wooyoung’s lips on his, the fire in his own heart. The finality of it all, that he had found peace and freedom at once, that if he were to die now, life would have made sense because he had kissed Wooyoung and that was all that mattered.

All there was.

Wooyoung kissed him back eagerly, his hands falling from Mingi’s face down to his shoulders, to finally rest by his waist, where they dug into his flesh, holding onto him. Mingi’s heart wanted to burst with words, with emotions, but he held them in and kissed Wooyoung fervently. He hoped he could translate all he felt into the kiss.

They were interrupted by a clattering sound coming from the kitchen and quick as lightning they separated. Mingi’s cheeks felt warm, his lips tingled with the ghost of Wooyoung’s kiss.

He cleared his throat, standing up so he could peek into the kitchen. There was no one there. Maybe it had been the wind.

“We should uh, go back. Yeosang and San might wonder where we are,” Wooyoung said. He wasn’t meeting Mingi’s eyes, his cheeks a bright red.

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed, but he doubted San and Yeosang might have noticed their long absence, too busy with teasing one another.

When they were back in his room, Mingi’s eyes found the sketches on his cork board. The boy on the clearing stared back at him, and he felt sick with guilt about having kissed Wooyoung.

**~*~**

The day Mingi met the boy of the clearing he was seventeen already.

It was early October and the weather was strangely warm, kind sunrays graced the world, and crickets still sang every other night. 

The day fell on a Friday and Mingi was invited to Wooyoung’s house for the first time ever. He had never spoken much about his home, only mentioned he didn’t feel comfortable there, much less inviting friends. But that day it was out of necessity since Yeosang was at the dentist and in Mingi’s house there were renovations happening and it’d be too loud to study. Wooyoung didn’t have any other option than to invite Mingi to his home for their project-slash-hangout. 

“Please don’t think of me differently,” Wooyoung kept saying all the way from school to his house.

“I won’t,” Mingi kept promising, but the more he said it the more he wondered about Wooyoung’s past and the subtle signs he had seen so far. “I could never.”

The Jeong’s house was very different from the Song’s house. For starters, it wasn’t a creepy looking thing at the end of a street with nothing but miles of mysterious forest expanding behind it and a family of odd women that did _séances_ and other practices of the kind for a living.

The Jeong’s had a beautiful looking front yard, the fence seemed to have been repainted in a bright white just recently, and the windows looked so clean Mingi wouldn’t be surprised if birds crashed against them.

Wooyoung pushed the front door open with his butt, precariously holding the pizzas and the coca-cola bottle. Mingi stood behind him, feeling a little useless with his mountain of notebooks.

“Don’t pay any attention to the weird pictures and the decoration, I _promise you_ I’m normal,” Wooyoung said with a nervous laugh. 

At first, Mingi thought Wooyoung had accidentally entered a hospital with how brightly white the walls were. The afternoon sun reflected off the tiles on the floor and the walls, blinding him momentarily. He squinted his eyes.

His second thought was that Wooyoung had led him into a haunted house. There were creepy looking paintings all over the place, in between were framed family pictures (all of them dressed in the same clothes; he could make out Wooyoung with his hair brushed neatly). The furniture was placed down to perfection, not one millimeter out of place, and it seemed as if it had only recently been cleaned, not a single dirty spot or lost sock on the floor. 

The clinical cleanliness of the home was scary.

Mingi feared he would accidentally bump into something.

He let out a low, hysterical chuckle.

Wooyoung grimaced. “I _swear_ I’m not—” he gestured with his hand at the living room, the cola sloshing around, “ _this_ crazy.”

“I believe you,” Mingi promised. And he did, believe Wooyoung.

If his black clothes, painted nails, and rimmed eyes were any indication, he was clearly rebelling against the completely white decoration his parents had going on. It was clear he was trying to separate himself from them.

“I believe you, Wooyoung,” he repeated for good measure. Wooyoung still appeared to be a little skeptical.

“I’ll show you my room,” he said urgently. His eyes flickered down the corridor next to the kitchen, which led to a back garden. Mingi could make out movement: a white dress flowing in the wind, a deep voice talking in a monotone voice… Wooyoung’s parents if he had to guess. Wooyoung nervously bit his lips. “I-I don’t want them to—”

“I get it,” Mingi interrupted him.

Wooyoung let out a sigh of relief, quickly stomping up the stairs. He guided Mingi past a row of white doors, the last one was red. Wooyoung had taped a very big ‘KEEP OUT’ sign on it. Opposite from it was a door, ajar. Someone was inside.

“Wooyoung?” that someone called out, followed by a cough. The voice sounded faintly familiar. 

Mingi froze.

“That’s Yunho,” Wooyoung revealed, though it didn’t explain much. He didn’t sound as scared of him as of his parents, but there was still a wariness in his tone that made Mingi uneasy. “He’s been sick since we were thirteen.”

There was bright light in the room, the sun shining directly into it. A round white carpet covered the wooden floor, scattered around were different clothing items. At first glance nothing seemed to be out of place, like the rest of the house.

“Yunho!” Wooyoung said, attempting to sound cheerful. He put his hand on the door, pushing it open. 

Mingi held his breath.

There was a bed, the sun was directly raining down on it, and in the bed was a boy their age. He had tan skin and curly brown hair, which stood out starkly against his white sheets and clothings. His face was so painfully familiar to Mingi, but sicklier looking than in his memory: his cheekbones stood out, and his eyes were glassy, as if he had a fever. 

The boy lifted a frail looking hand, waving Wooyoung over.

“Could you get me some more water?” he asked.

It was the same voice.

His words, spoken four years ago on the clearing of the forest, crashed back. Mingi could almost picture that moment clear as was the boy now, in front of him, in the flesh.

It was like a slap to his face; for his wavering heart he’d forced that memory out of his mind, but now the moment had come and he no longer could ignore it. He no longer could entertain those other thoughts, whenever his shoulder bumped into Wooyoung’s and a shiver travelled up his spine.

With difficulty, Mingi swallowed. He was close to vomiting. He stood frozen in the corridor; from downstairs he heard a woman call out Wooyoung’s name.

“ _Shit_ ,” Wooyoung cursed. “Mingi, go into my room.”

“Mingi? Who’s Mingi?” Yunho asked. He leaned forward, his brown eyes meeting Mingi’s. Something flickered through his eyes, but he recovered quickly. “ _Oh_. You brought a friend?” he addressed Wooyoung before he looked at Mingi again; he smiled softly. “Hello.”

Mingi’s lips moved wordlessly.

 _It’s going to be a love so beautiful_ , his mother’s voice echoed in his mind.

Yunho laughed, then broke out into a cough.

_It means you’re the one to kill him, Mingi._

“Hi,” Mingi finally croaked out.

Behind him he heard the stairs creek.

Wooyoung hissed. “Mingi. Room. Now!”

The urgency in his friend’s tone galvanized him and with one last, haunted look at Yunho he quickly spun around and entered Wooyoung’s room, quietly closing the door behind himself.

The voices out in the corridor turned into a blur as he sunk down onto the floor, his back half against the red door, half against the black walls in Wooyoung’s room. The darkness of his room gave him a suffocating feeling, his lung shrinking as he kept replaying Yunho in the bed, sick and coughing, and Yunho in the clearing, any day now, with blood splattered on his white t-shirt.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

Never in a million years had he thought it would go like this, that it would be so soon. Part of him had believed it would never happen, or that his heart would be split in two because as much as he liked Wooyoung’s company, now that he had met his true love, he couldn’t just let it go; let him die.

The voices in the corridor raised, even above Mingi’s troubling thoughts.

“How many times have I told you not to dress like this?!” Wooyoung’s mother was screaming.

“I told you, I don’t care!” Wooyoung cried out in frustration. “As soon as I can, _I will leave_!”

“What’s going on up there?” A deep voice, almost like it came straight out of the Earth itself, shouted angrily. “Jeong Wooyoung!”

The house grew eerily quiet.

“Can someone get me some water, please?” Yunho asked, coughing.

“Of course, honey,” Mrs Jeong said softly. “Wooyoung, don’t leave your father waiting.”

“Actually,” Yunho spoke up again, “Wooyoungie just told me about a very important school project. He should go into his room and work on it, don’t you think?”

There was a brief silence. “Wooyoung, go into your room.”

“Yes, mother.”

Mingi quickly moved up from the floor, brushing off his butt and knees from invisible dust—seriously, there was not a single mote of dust flying around in the house!

Wooyoung walked through the red door seconds later, looking irritated and a little frightened. He glanced at Mingi with wide eyes, almost as if he had forgotten he was there.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled, ashamed.

“It’s…” He wanted to say ‘okay’, but it really wasn’t. “Next time we can go to mine, I promise,” he said instead.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung agreed, but his voice faded. He looked dull and empty, not the fierce boy Mingi knew from school that walked the hallways confidently and fought with anyone that dared to look at him or his friends funnily. 

Mingi clenched his hands, wishing he could do more for him, but he felt so helpless. He stepped forward, ignoring his own turbulent thoughts, and placed his hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder, squeezing it. Easily, Wooyoung fell into his arms, hugging him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s not your fault,” Mingi told him. “If you ever want to sleep over… Well, my bed is not big, but we’ll make it work.”

This made Wooyoung laugh, he pushed himself away, softly punching Mingi’s shoulder.

“I’ll make use of that offer, you can’t take it back!”

“I won’t,” he promised.

For a moment, there was a thick and undeniable tension between them. Wooyoung’s eyes fell on Mingi’s lips, and Mingi remembered their kiss almost a year ago, in the dead of the night. He had regretted it as much as it had been the highlight of his life. The exaliriation and the relief of kissing Wooyoung had been unlike anything in his life, and he often doubted anything would ever quite feel like it.

Guiltily, he looked away, the image of Yunho lying in his bed, sick and weak, flickered in his mind. His death was so close, so inevitable. Mingi had an inkling this year’s All Hallows Eve would bring another tragedy; _a burning sacrifice_ , a voice in his mind said.

“We should er, start the project,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

Wooyoung tensed, leaning back. When had he leaned in? When had Mingi leaned in?

“Yeah, good call.”

An hour later, they had finished their pizzas and drunk half of the coca-cola, and Mingi hated that his bladder was protesting. If he was honest, he was slightly scared to use the Jeong’s bathroom—what if he bumped into Wooyoung’s parents? What if he bumped into Yunho? Even so, he asked Wooyoung where the bathroom was. 

A little apprehensive, Wooyoung described it to him.

“Just… make sure they don’t see you,” he pleaded.

With a nod, he quietly left Wooyoung’s room, looking left and right before he walked out of it. It was eerily quiet in the house now, no sounds came from downstairs—not even a TV running or a radio playing. Mingi peeked into Yunho’s room discreetly, but found it empty now.

Without further ado, he made his way over to the bathroom. It was just as white and clinical as the rest of the house and in the cupboard above the sink, which was half opened, there were several pill containers. He wondered if they were for Yunho’s sickness.

When Mingi exited the bathroom, he bumped into a very warm and solid body. He looked up to find Yunho standing in front of him. His heart leaped in his chest out of surprise and fear, then slowly calmed down when Yunho smiled.

“Sorry,” Mingi muttered.

“Don’t sweat it,” Yunho said, still smiling. He tilted his head. “You look… familiar.”

“We’ve never met before. I would remember.”

“Must be because of Wooyoung’s vivid descriptions then.” Yunho laughed. “He talks about you a lot. He’s very fond of you.” Mingi’s heart did a strange thing, a painful one. “And Yeosang,” Yunho added quickly when he noticed Mingi’s strange reaction. “I’ll see you later, Mingi. Don’t leave Wooyoung waiting.”

“Yeah. See you later…”

When Mingi was back in Wooyoung’s room, he couldn’t stop his pounding heart and the crushing guilt and fear and pain. He didn’t know how to deal with these conflicting emotions.

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung asked worriedly. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”

Mingi almost laughed.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Let’s just finish our project.”

“Alright,” Wooyoung agreed. “But Mingi, you can trust me with anything.” He moved one of his hands to cover Mingi’s, squeezing it.

He was so genuine, so worried, Mingi wanted to cry. 

“Thank you.” His voice trembled.

They locked eyes and Mingi wanted to lean over so badly, kiss those lips again that had made every piece within him fit, but across the corridor they heard Yunho cough, and Mingi leaned away, guilty and sick.

Breathless, he announced for all residents to hear, “ _I met him_!”

Yeeun stopped crocheting, nearly dropping the ball of yarn. She parted her lips. Eunji whipped around, accidentally unloading a monstrous amount of salt onto their dinner; next to her, Mina, an old family friend, startled so badly she wrinkled her newspaper.

“Little prince!” Kyunghee protested. “Don’t go yelling around!”

“Sorry, mom. But I met _him_ ,” Mingi repeated urgently.

Aunt Eunji gasped.

Kyunghee stared at him. She dropped her toothbrush.

“Oh, no,” she whispered.

“What are we talking about?” Mina inquired.

“His true love,” Eunji explained. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Mina muttered with sympathy. She was well aware of the family curse. Mingi then wondered, for the first time, if she was the friend Eunji had talked about, her true love that he had decided to stay away from. He swallowed, looking away from Mina.

“He is very sick,” Mingi said carefully. “Wooyoung said he’s been sick for four years, since he was thirteen.” 

There was no need for him to specify what had happened at the All Hallows Eve four years ago, the events were still very present in their minds. Yunho’s flickering body haunted his mind.

“Seems like Death is already two steps ahead of you,” Yeeun muttered.

“Yeeun!” Eunji protested. She glanced worriedly at Mingi, but his mind was already wandering toward possible solutions.

Yeeun shrugged, as if to say, ‘What? I was only stating the obvious.’ 

“Are you sure it’s him?” Kyunghee asked.

The ‘yes’ got stuck in Mingi’s throat. He thought of his strong, ever growing feelings for Wooyoung, and that strange dream he’d had two years ago, when Grandmother Eunae had visited him and said simply, ‘It’s not him. Don’t kiss him.’

He swallowed, pushing those thoughts away; why else would he have seen Yunho on the clearing three years ago if not because he was his true love?

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Kyunghee nodded her head solemnly. “We shall discuss tonight how we should deal with this situation now that the time has arrived.”

Mingi went into his room to rest a little after the discovery. He tried to take a nap, but his mind kept replaying everything in his mind. Every little piece of information ever since he had first seen Yunho’s spirit echo on the clearing four years ago.

Dread filled him as he couldn’t get his grandmother’s words out of his mind, or what his father had told him on All Hallows Eve two years ago.

_As the barrier closes, the last to face the trials shall do so through burning sacrifice, changing the threads forever._

Burning sacrifice, changing the threads forever… 

He thought of Eunae’s odd death.

“It was part of my bargain, my soul for that boy’s safety,” she had said, but her face seconds before Death had taken her had been full of regret.

Worst of all, he still remembered those moments out of the blue, when he looked at Wooyoung and _saw_ him clear as the sky: the slope of his big nose, and his beautiful eyes, and his laughter; and the pain in his soul. Mingi loved Wooyoung’s passion for music and the unabashed way he sang to songs, the unapologetic way he existed with his darker than black clothes and his makeup and black nails that were part of his identity. 

He loved the worried lines on Wooyoung’s forehead when Mingi would feel guilty falling for Wooyoung, as his future true love’s life depended on him; he loved when Wooyoung hugged him or cuddled with him when they watched movies in Yeosang’s attic.

Mingi couldn’t help it as he wondered if there had been a mistake all those years ago, on the clearing, when he had seen the echo of Yunho’s spirit.

 _It should have been Wooyoung,_ he often thought. His true love should have been Wooyoung.

Then he felt very relieved it wasn’t Wooyoung.

Lastly, a crushing guilt consumed him.

**~*~**

Mingi’s father once had crossed the Gates of Death to sacrifice himself and break the curse. Perhaps there was a way for Mingi to do the same, maybe if he sacrificed himself he could save his true love.

Even if he was determined to save Yunho, a little skeptical and cruel voice in the back of his head whispered to him that he was too selfish to actually sacrifice himself. He pushed that voice far away.

For Yunho he’d talk to Death, he’d try to find a solution.

After a lot of thinking, Mingi finally decided it was time he told his two best friends the truth. He didn’t completely reveal that Yunho was his true love, he wasn’t sure how to reveal that to Wooyoung. He told them about his plan to summon Death and ask for a way to change fate. He was sure this was what he was meant to do, _changing the threads forever._ Perhaps this was what Grandmother Eunae had meant when she’d said he’d know when the time was right.

Once he was done explaining, his friends looked at him with wide eyes. Wooyoung’s expression was blank and closed off, his face pale as a ghost’s.

“True love?” Yeosang repeated skeptically. 

Mingi appreciated that neither of them asked him if he knew who it was.

“Yes.”

“Family curse?”

“ _Yes_.” Mingi sighed. “Look, are you in or not?”

“Sorry, I’m still processing the whole talking to spirits part that you never told me about, fucker,” Yeosang mumbled. 

Wooyoung was still quiet, biting on his lower lip.

Mingi shrugged. “It never seemed important.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Yeosang scoffed. “This is crazy.”

“I’m in,” Wooyoung said. He still looked guarded, but the color in his cheeks was back. “Whatever it is you need, Mingi, I’m in.” Yeosang mumbled something under his breath that Mingi didn’t quite understand and that Wooyoung gracefully ignored. He cleared his throat before he talked again, “To recap, we summon Death so you can speak to them and strike a bargain with them to save your true love?” Mingi nodded. “That sounds like the biggest mistake we’ll ever make.”

Mingi could see the pain and confusion in Wooyoung, and he felt so guilty.

He thought back to their kiss a year ago, and he still wondered if Wooyoung knew Mingi was in love with him; and if he did, how much it complicated this true love business. Did he think it was him?

“Well, we’re young. We’re supposed to make mistakes,” Yeosang said, trying to lighten up the mood.

Wooyoung laughed dryly, looking away from Mingi. “I highly doubt summoning Death is in the book of mistakes teenagers are meant to do.”

“Problem is, I’m terrible at Latin,” Mingi admitted.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Yeosang spoke, “I know just the man for the job.” He smiled maniacally. It was a bit concerning. “He’ll be a tough nut to crack.”

Choi San looked perplexed and a little irritated when three boys circled his table in the library. He slowly put down his book, placing his thumb between two pages before he closed it shut. He recovered from his confusion very quickly, now staring at the three boys with _a lot_ of irritation.

“What?” he asked in a clipped town, addressing Yeosang, who had worded their request. “Could you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right.” He was seconds away from glaring.

“Oh, you heard me right,” Yeosang said. 

San’s back stiffened, if it was possible for him to sit even straighter in his seat, he would have.

Mingi put his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders, pushing him aside. “Um, hi,” he said awkwardly. “I’m Mingi, you came to my Halloween party last year…”

“Yeah, I remember,” San said, exasperated. “We went to school for years, Mingi.” He sounded a little hurt when he said that.

“Right.” Mingi swallowed. “So…”

“Don’t be so uptight, San,” Yeosang whined. “Just help us out. You probably don’t even have anything interesting planned for the weekend.”

Mingi stared at his friend, horrified. Wooyoung held back a laugh.

San scoffed, removing his hand from his book to cross his arms in front of his chest. “What makes you think I’d agree if you keep insulting me?”

Yeosang smiled, not responding.

San frowned, warily dropping his arms. Then, with agitation, he realized he had lost the page he was reading in his book. He opened the book, already searching for it.

“No! _Shit_!” he whined. “You made me lose—” he was protesting, glaring up at Yeosang.

“Page 313,” Yeosang told him, unbothered and calm.

Yeosang took out the chair opposite of San and sat down, crossing his legs elegantly and folding his hands on the table as if he was an adult that was about to strike a huge deal. 

He kept smiling at San.

“Now that you owe me, you surely can come over to mine and recite some lines in Latin.”

San glared at him. “I don’t owe you anything,” he said with a seething tone.

“Oh, come on, San!”

“I’ll pay you,” Wooyoung said impulsively.

San whipped his head in Wooyoung’s direction, his eyes wide.

“You’ll pay me?”

Wooyoung nodded his head, serious.

“No, he won’t,” Yeosang said. “Just help us out, San.”

San made a bothered sound and swatted his hand as if Yeosang was an annoying fly buzzing around.

“How much would you pay me, Jeong?”

Wooyoung opened his mouth to reply, but Yeosang slammed his hands on the table, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Wooyoung is _not_ paying,” he insisted.

San clicked his tongue.

“It would mean a lot to me if you’d help us, San,” Mingi said softly and carefully.

“ _Fine_ ,” San said, rubbing his temples. “Just get out of here.” He shot one last glare at Yeosang.

**~*~**

Death stood tall in Yeosang’s attic, watching the four boys, who looked back with shock.

Death was dressed in a black cloak, smoke coming in and out of it, as if it had no body; and it looked as if stars had been placed in the hollows where their eyes should have been. They sparkled with an intensity, luring one in. Like a moth fell for a lamp. Was Death luring them toward… death?

“Hi, so…” Mingi started hesitantly. Yeosang was shooting him thumbs up while Wooyoung nodded in encouragement. San looked still perplexed that they had _actually_ summoned Death. “Firstly, I’d like to apologize for uh, trapping you. I needed to talk to you urgently. It’s about my family curse,” he rambled. He couldn’t tell what kind of expression Death was holding, whether they were offended or not that they had been trapped by a bunch of amateur teenagers. “About my true love,” he added.

“Family curse? True love?” San repeated, confused. They hadn’t really told him much. “What the…”

“Song Mingi,” Death spoke. It was a gravelly sound, but there was a melodic nuance to it. As if someone dragged a large piece of metal through dirt, and it banged against rocks, emitting a metallic echo. “Your fate has been decided a long time ago.”

Mingi clenched his hands, not liking the sound of that: _fate._

“Holy shit,” Yeosang muttered, fascinated. “That’s Death! We’re _actually_ talking to Death!”

“Don’t sound so excited, you dick!” San chastised him.

Completely ignoring San, Yeosang continued, “They’re kinda hot, don’t you think? I mean, for being like, _literally Death_?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Quiet, both of you!” Wooyoung scolded them.

Mingi nervously wrung his hands together. “Um.” He cleared his throat. Death stared at him patiently. “Uh…”

“Mingi, say something! You’re boring them to death!” Yeosang said. Seconds later he snorted. “Hah! Boring them to death!” He raised his hand, hoping for a high five. Wooyoung threw him a disgusted look, but softly high fived him.

“God, I hate you,” San muttered under his breath.

Death’s eyes flickered over to Yeosang briefly. Mingi swore he could see a smile beneath all that smoke.

“I do appreciate good humor. Many spirits lose it after centuries. It’s always a pleasure to be among the living, even if just for the humor.”

Yeosang gasped silently, his eyes wide. He grabbed San’s sleeve, pulling at it repeatedly. San looked like he was about to fling Yeosang out of the attic. 

“Did… Did you hear that? Death _liked_ my joke!”

“Yeah…” San drawled. “Awesome.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Are you serious right now? _San_!” he protested. “You can’t be jealous of-of Death!” he hissed quietly.

“Death,” Mingi quickly interjected before his friends could get into an argument. “You said you know of my fate; then, do you know what I will ask of you?”

“Yes,” Death responded. “You want to save your true love. You want to sacrifice yourself in his place, but let me ask you, Song Mingi; do you want him to suffer your loss? Isn’t that cruel?”

Mingi stood frozen. He hadn’t thought of that. All these years he had been focused on preventing Yunho’s death, it never had occurred to him that the alternative, in which Mingi was the one dying, meant just as much suffering. It wasn’t really a sacrifice, he realized, just switching their places.

“I…” he tried but his voice faded out. “Grandmother Eunae spoke to you, right before you took her three years ago. She said she had bargained with you so I could have a chance to save my true love.”

“Your grandmother sacrificed herself so you could have a chance to save the boy you saw on the clearing,” Death said.

“Oh, man,” Yeosang said, he sounded on the verge of excitement. 

“Carry out three duties for me and I might spare Jeong Yunho’s life.”

Mingi swallowed. _Three duties_? What could that possibly mean? And, Yunho’s life spared? It sounded too good to be true. But after all this was how he was changing the threads forever, by striking a deal with Death. Perhaps the three duties were tied to the burning sacrifice.

“Jeong Yunho…?” Wooyoung echoed. His voice sounded a little broken.

Mingi blanched, feeling guilt and nausea swim in his stomach. This wasn’t how Wooyoung was meant to find out.

He glared at Death before he turned around. Wooyoung was staring at him with wide, betrayed eyes. Hurt was flashing through them.

“Mingi, what did Death mean? About Yunho?”

Mingi swallowed. He chuckled hollowly. “Where do I start?”

He explained the truth behind his first ever All Hallows Eve, when he had seen Yunho’s spirit echo appear on the clearing all those years ago. 

“Nothing has happened between us,” he promised Wooyoung. “But it was always inevitable for me to love him. I’m not sure how he feels about me though. I mean, we _just_ met…” he added a little crazily.

“I-I,” Wooyoung stuttered. Emotions were running wildly over his face, like stars that flickered in the night sky. His eyebrows twitched, his lips trembling. Mingi realized there was more to his reaction than the visible truth. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“ _Yes_!” Mingi insisted. He knew how bad this looked. “I was terrified, Wooyoung.”

When Mingi tried to approach him, he shook his head. With a hoarse voice Wooyoung said, “I’m… I’m leaving.” He walked towards the ladder without looking back at them, and climbed down.

“What is your answer, Song Mingi?” Death asked as if nothing had happened. “Will you accept my bargain and save Jeong Yunho?”

Mingi blinked, unprepared.

“Dude, read the room,” Yeosang hissed softly.

“Stop,” San whined. “You’re embarrassing me, and probably Mingi too.”

“Eh.” Yeosang shrugged, unbothered.

“Are you _trying_ to get killed?”

“Killed by Death itself,” Yeosang mused, thoughtfully scratching his chin. “Pretty awesome, don’t you think?” He grinned at San.

San grumbled something under his breath that vaguely sounded like: ‘I can’t believe I like you.’

Outloud San said, “You’re always killed by Death, you idiot.”

“What deeds are these?” Mingi wondered.

“Guide three lost souls through the Underworld coming All Hallows Eve. Don’t fail me.”

“What if I _do_ fail you?”

“Jeong Yunho will die on the clearing, as you saw four years ago. As he’s meant to do.”

Yunho had fallen sick four years ago, on the night of All Hallows Eve, and his life was meant to end soon. Unless Mingi saved him.

 _It means you’re the one to kill him, Mingi._ His mother’s voice echoed in a distant corner of his mind. He’d never forgotten those words. 

Was this how it was supposed to happen all along? Mingi failed Death’s bargain and as a consequence he’d lose Yunho?

 _The sacrifice has to be me!_ Yunho’s spirit echo had yelled four years ago.

“This seems sketchy,” Yeosang muttered. For once, Mingi agreed.

“You said you know my fate. Is this how it’s meant to happen? Is this how I kill him?”

Death tilted its head. 

“I cannot see your future, Song Mingi. I cannot see what your choice will be.”

“B-But my fate…” he said, confused. “You said it was decided a long time ago.”

Why did everyone speak in riddles? Couldn’t someone just give him a straight answer? Was he going to kill Yunho by accepting this bargain with Death or was this how he’d save him? Was this how he was changing the threads of fate, through sacrificing himself by accepting Death’s bargain?

“Your fate has always been and will always remain the same, no matter what you do: _As the barrier closes, the last to face the trials shall do so through burning sacrifice, changing the threads forever_ ,” Death recited the exact same words Mingi’s father had told him. 

Meekly, he wondered if these words were known all around the Underworld, like song lyrics or a nursery rhyme that the spirits sang; or perhaps they were like a memorable newspaper headline ( _Hear, hear! This week on Underworld Daily, Song Mingi’s Fate!_ ). 

“It is up to you how you make your fate come true. The time to choose is now, will it be your true love or the boy on the clearing?” Death continued.

Mingi frowned, the words throwing him off-kilter.

“Yikes,” San muttered. “That doesn’t sound great.”

Yeosang blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Does this mean, no matter what Mingi does, it will always end the same?” San wondered, addressing Death.

Death nodded. “Yes. That is correct, Choi San. There is always a sacrifice.”

San blanched.

It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling to have Death address one with their own name. It felt like a death sentence.

Yeosang clung to San, whispering way too loudly, “Death used your name!”

San shook his shoulder. “Get off me,” he hissed, but there was a pink color to his cheeks.

“Will you accept the bargain?” Death asked, once again as if there hadn’t been any interruptions. 

Mingi held his breath. Possibly, he was about to commit his biggest mistake yet.

“Yes.”

Death held out its hand, waiting for Mingi to shake it. 

“Um?” Mingi tilted his head in confusion. 

How was he just supposed to shake smoke? But Death kept staring at him with the hand outstretched, so Mingi took it. It was freezing, his fingers hurting as if he had just spent hours playing in the snow without gloves on. It only lasted for a few seconds, then Death stepped away.

Mingi moved his fingers, scared they were frozen and he’d have to cut them off, but thankfully that wasn’t the case.

“Now,” Death spoke up, facing San, “Unleash me. I have entertained you for long enough.”

“Yes!” San squeaked, looking down at his phone. He started the releasing incantation.

Just as quickly as Death had appeared, it vanished. Darkness blinded them, as if they had been pulled into the Underworld, and then it was just the attic’s dusty and smelly air that surrounded them. 

“Well…” Yeosang started, lips parted. “That was sick!”

San crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m never hanging out with any of you again!” he exploded. “I thought you nerds wanted me to read the latin for some dumb game or whatever, not _actually_ _summon Death_!”

Yeosang scoffed, pointing his finger at San. “ _You’re_ the nerd.”

Mingi rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics and made an exit, climbing down the attic’s ladder to search for Wooyoung. There was so much he had to explain to him, he owed him as much.

He found him sitting in the garden, underneath the willow tree. He was petting Yeosang’s diabolic cat, who appeared to have taken quite a liking toward Wooyoung, resting on his lap.

Wooyoung’s eyeliner was smudged as if he had been crying and rubbing his eyes.

Mingi’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest, guilt swallowing him.

How was he going to explain this? How was he going to explain to Wooyoung that Yunho was his true love, but that he had been falling in love with Wooyoung over the years? It didn’t make any sense.

He opened the door that led to the garden, quietly making his way over to Wooyoung.

The boy dressed in black looked up, his expression shutting down the moment he locked eyes with Mingi.

“Hey,” Mingi spoke, awkwardly lingering at a distance. “Can I sit with you?”

Wooyoung nodded his head.

Cautiously, Mingi sat next to him, at an arm’s distance.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner my true love was Yunho,” he said, sharp claws tearing at his heart when Wooyoung only gave a shrug in response. “I… I was so terrified when I met Yunho at your house. I thought fate was playing a dirty trick on me, especially because…” _Because I’m in love with you_ ; but he couldn’t say it, it would only cause so much more pain. “Because he is your friend.”

Wooyoung sighed. “You could have told me, I wouldn’t have been angry.”

Mingi bit the inside of his cheeks, guilt becoming worse. “Wooyoung… I’m the one responsible for Yunho’s death. The family curse, the last line meant for the last to face it, says: ‘ _The true love will die, their blood on the last’s hands._ ’ I’m the one to kill him. How was I supposed to tell you? I can’t—” He couldn’t keep speaking, his throat constricting and the words getting caught in a spiderweb. His tongue felt heavy and tears burned bright in his eyes.

He let his head fall into his hands, a thrumming behind his eyes. It felt like it’d explode any time.

“Mingi,” Wooyoung began, his voice quiet in the afternoon. “You have to know that I’m in love with you. I have been so _fucking_ obvious about it.”

Mingi had yearned for those words, that Wooyoung was in love with Mingi as much as Mingi was with him, even if this just caused so much more pain. Now that they were out in the open, Mingi could barely speak. He could barely think.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out.

The air around them was icy cold, thick clouds expanding over their small town. The first snowfall wasn’t far.

“It’s tomorrow, isn’t it? The night Yunho dies, on All Hallows Eve?”

Mingi nodded his head, unable to speak.

“He dies unless someone guides those three souls through the Underworld, that’s the bargain?”

Again, Mingi nodded his head.

Cold fingers wrapped around Mingi’s wrists, removing his hands from his face. He looked up at Wooyoung, who was staring at him with loving, sad eyes. There was a palpable tension in the air between them, Mingi knew if their circumstance were different they’d kiss right now. But instead Wooyoung’s fingers moved down until he was holding Mingi’s hand, he intertwined their fingers and watched them for a moment before he removed his hand completely.

When Wooyoung’s eyes met his, Mingi knew his secret wasn’t hidden well enough for Wooyoung’s eyes widened and sorrow crossed them like an arrow shooting through them. He knew Mingi loved him back.

“Wooyoung, I’m sorry,” he said again. It sounded empty even to his own ears.

Wooyoung shook his head, turning away from Mingi. “You should tell Yunho. He should know, after all it’s his life you’re gambling with,” he said coldly.

“ _Song Mingi_!” Kyunghee exploded, worry and anger alike dancing on her face. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, tapping the wrench against her bicep. 

“Mom…” Mingi tried.

“ _No_! You made a bargain with Death! That’s insane! How foolish can you be?!”

“Mom!” Mingi whined, embarrassed he glanced at San and Yeosang, who were standing awkwardly in the living room. 

“I must agree with Kyunghee,” Aunt Yeeun said. “That was very careless.”

Yeeun put down her mug of healing tea, running a hand through her graying hair. She tapped her index finger against the handle, deep in thought.

“Death told me to guide three lost spirits through the Underworld this All Hallows Eve. It can’t be that hard.”

“Mingi…” Kyunghee began, but her eyes flickered to their nervous guests. “What do you think will become of you once you reap souls?” 

“Well… I haven’t thought that far,” he admitted. “I just… I _need_ to save him.”

Kyunghee rubbed her temples, discarding the wrench on the sink.

“I know, little prince, I know. But a bargain with Death?” She exhaled, sitting down. “How are we going to fix this?” she asked no one in particular. 

“Mingi is old enough to reap what he sows,” Aunt Yeeun pointed out. “No pun intended.”

“ _He’s_ _seventeen_ ,” his mother protested. “He isn’t even old enough to properly do his laundry!”

Mingi squeaked indignantly. “That was one time! I haven’t messed up our laundry since then.”

Kyunghee sighed and waved her hand in the air dismissively.

Aunt Eunji appeared then. She put her hands on Mingi’s shoulders, winking at him. She mouthed, ‘I got this’, and pushed him out of the kitchen toward his friends.

“Don’t fry him in front of his guests,” she told her sisters. “Come on, up you go boys! We’ll discuss this later.”

San and Yeosang bowed their heads at the three women, trudging behind Mingi.

“They’re terrifying,” Yeosang muttered, amazed.

San elbowed him harshly.

Mingi let himself fall dramatically atop his bed, and stared up at his corkboard where the old sketches of Yunho peeked out from behind new sketches of Wooyoung and Yeosang, and other things that had gained his attention over the years. But he never had found it in himself to remove Yunho from his wall.

He looked exactly like the sketches, like his memory from when he was thirteen.

The time was approaching, but Mingi felt more lost than ever.

The burning sacrifice that stood in front of him, could it be linked to the bargain he had done with Death, reaping three lost souls? 

What did happen to a living mortal that crossed the Gates of Death?

He thought of his father, who had sacrificed himself.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

Yeosang sat down next to him, patting Mingi’s knee.

“What did Wooyoung say?”

Mingi’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

“He’s upset I didn’t tell him sooner who my true love is, but I think he understands why I couldn’t.”

“He’ll get over it,” San offered.

Mingi hummed distantly. 

Everything would be revealed the following night, on the clearing, during All Hallows Eve, just how it had started four years ago.

Yeosang and San left hours later. They hadn’t found a solution to the problem, they always circled back to the same issues. Mingi would have to carry out Death’s deed and cross the Gates of Death, there was no other option. They had provided a temporary distraction with their endless arguing and banter, but when Mingi closed his eyes to sleep he was visited by Wooyoung’s sad eyes and Yunho’s smile, and the choice that was in front of him wasn’t any easier.

Tomorrow night was All Hallows Eve, tomorrow was the night Yunho would die if Mingi didn’t carry out Death’s bargain.

_A burning sacrifice._

**~*~**

The morning of All Hallows Eve was a pale one, mist hung over the forest and the street outside. The sky couldn’t quite decide between a cloudy or a sunny day.

Mingi was out early, riding his bike to the scarily white and clean house far from his own. Nervously, he rang the bell that read _Jeong_ in cursive writing.

To his relief it was Yunho that opened the door, but at the same time the guilt from the previous night and the heaviness of what he was about to tell Yunho weighed on him.

“Mingi?” Yunho was surprised, his hair wet from a shower still and sleep in his eyes. He wore sweatpants and a hoodie. “What brings you here? Wooyoung is still asleep.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Me?” Yunho’s eyes widened momentarily. He turned his head, glancing into the kitchen, then he stepped out and closed the door behind himself. “What is it?”

Mingi swallowed. This conversation wasn’t one to be had on a front porch, in the breaking morning, but there was no time anymore. Tonight was the night Yunho would die; would have died if Mingi hadn’t struck that bargain.

Kyunghee had been right when she had said that the true love was one hard to resist. In the morning light, Yunho looked beautiful. His kind eyes were sleepy, his naturally smiling lips held a tug of concern, and his wet curls looked tempting.

If Mingi managed to guide the three souls safely through the Underworld and made it back, he’d have a lifetime with Yunho. He’d have so much time to get to know him and discover all there was to know about him.

Because Yunho was his true love, the one he was meant to be with all along, the one he was meant to find happiness with. 

Not Wooyoung.

And yet, Mingi couldn’t help that painful cry his heart did at the thought of Wooyoung. He couldn’t help but to compare that his heart wasn’t yearning or burning in Yunho’s presence, the way it did with Wooyoung.

Mingi shook himself inwardly. _Get a grip_ , he scolded himself.

“This might sound crazy,” he started.

Yunho smiled peculiarly, as if to say, ‘Try me.’ He leaned against the door’s frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest to protect himself from the cold.

Mingi began explaining everything, from his first All Hallows Eve when he had been thirteen, the spirit echo he had seen of Yunho and his family curse, about Death taking Grandmother Eunae a year later on the clearing, to the words his father had spoken to him. He told him all about the Gates of Death and the bargain; and lastly, he confided his feelings for Wooyoung to Yunho.

Throughout his tale, Yunho’s face kept flashing through many emotions until he finally stood with a nearly blank expression.

An hour must have passed since Mingi had first rang the Jeong’s door bell, the sun was higher up and birds were flying about. Neighbors looked curiously at the two tall boys.

“I know this sounds all very crazy, but I need you to come with me tonight to the clearing.”

Yunho stared at him silently.

“I believe you,” he said. His face flickered once again with something, similar to when they first had met. “I… I have to be honest, Mingi. I don’t—I don’t feel anything,” he said, guiltily looking away from Mingi. “But I have seen you in my dreams. Four years ago, I dreamt of you. You looked younger than you do now though. I believe I dreamed of that clearing that you talked about… I don’t know what it means that I did.”

Mingi stilled.

“You have?”

Yunho nodded his head. “I remember it clearly now. I forgot about it. That night was… not the greatest. My life hasn’t been the same since.” As if on queue, he coughed violently and shivered in the cold morning air. “Are you sure I am your true love?”

“Yes.”

But Mingi wondered.

“I’ll be there tonight,” he promised, smiling weakly. “I have to go, I’m… I shouldn’t be out here for so long.”

Mingi didn’t join his mother or aunts that All Hallows Eve either, but he didn’t have to tell them why, they all understood it. Kyunghee squeezed his shoulder, her eyes swimming with tears. Aunt Eunji hugged him tightly. Even Yeeun shot him an encouraging smile.

“You’ll do the right thing,” she said.

Mingi paced around his room, waiting for his friends and Yunho to get there. They would go to the clearing after midnight, once Kyunghee, Eunji, and Yeeun were done. They would summon Death so that Mingi could hold his side of the bargain and cross the Gates of Death, and so that Death could hold their side of the bargain, let Yunho live.

He kept wondering and wondering if he was doing the right thing, if this was how he’d save his true love, or if he was about to doom everyone. He felt guilty dragging his friends into it, but Wooyoung and Yeosang had told him more than once they’d stand by his side no matter what, and even San had said he would help no matter what came.

Summoning Death had changed them, somewhere deep inside Mingi there was a rift that had been opened. It was something subtle, but it was there. He was sure his friends felt the same. And he knew that rift would only open further the moment he’d walk through the Gates of Death, guiding those three souls.

 _What do you think will become of you once you reap souls?_ Mingi was about to find out.

When Wooyoung, Yeosang, San, and Yunho finally arrived they didn’t talk much. They sat in Mingi’s kitchen, each nursing a cup of calming tea to prepare them for what was to come. Yeosang tried to cheer up the mood a couple of times, and Yunho tried to say some encouraging words, but tension blossomed between the boys.

Mingi was about to sacrifice a part of himself, of his soul… 

But he had to; he had to save Yunho. Ever since he had been thirteen this was where his life was headed, to this All Hallows Eve. Yunho was dressed exactly as he was in Mingi’s memory. It made everything so much more real. There was no going back anymore.

Mingi glanced at Wooyoung. He was less upset than the night before, but he kept avoiding Mingi’s eyes.

“It’s almost midnight,” San pointed out, cutting through the silence. “We should leave.”

“Yes.” Mingi stood up, his hands trembling.

When they summoned Death this time it was less intimidating, but that rift inside Mingi felt more powerful. He shivered, coldness seeping through his thick winter jacket.

“Song Mingi,” Death spoke. “You are here to follow through with the bargain.”

Mingi nodded. “Yes.”

Death raised their hand, gesturing at Yunho to come closer. Pale as the moon, Yunho approached them. Death touched Yunho’s chest, a bright blue light emitted from their… fingertips? It was hard to tell as they were made of smoke.

“Jeong Yunho’s life is spared. He won’t die tonight as you have seen, Song Mingi. His sickness is lifted.”

Mingi frowned.

Something felt wrong. Terribly so.

Before Mingi could join Death to cross to the other side, Wooyoung rushed forward. He gently pushed Mingi aside, a terrified look on his face.

“I will take Mingi’s place. I will guide the lost souls through the Underworld,” he said, his voice shaking.

Yunho stared at his friend agape. “Wooyoung… What are you doing?”

“I thought it had to be Mingi…” San said, confused.

Mingi was staring in shock at Wooyoung, nausea filling him as his thoughts stumbled in his mind, a clear picture forming, one that he had missed all this time. Or perhaps he had ignored it. 

_The true love will die, their blood on the last’s hands._

_A burning sacrifice._

Mingi’s soul was burning at the thought of losing Wooyoung.

“Jeong Wooyoung can take Song Mingi’s place, if he wishes to do so. As long as the deed is carried through, it doesn’t matter who will do it.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Wooyoung said quickly before Mingi could even speak. Wooyoung grabbed Death’s smoky hand. He turned to face Mingi. “It’s okay.”

The words rang in Mingi’s mind, a faint memory revisiting him. _It’s okay. One day I’ll leave._

“No, it’s not!” Mingi protested. “Wooyoung you can’t—This is insane! This is my bargain with Death, not yours!”

“Mingi, just let me do this. Yunho is saved, he is your true love. This is the happy ending you deserve,” Wooyoung argued, but there were tears in his eyes. He looked so full of regret and sadness. “Just let me do this, I’m begging you.”

“Mingi…” Yeosang spoke up, but for once he didn’t have a witty comeback to ease the tension. He wrapped his hand around Mingi’s wrist, pulling at it. 

“Mingi, don’t you see? This is how it was always meant to happen. Changing the threads forever…” Wooyoung said. “Yunho is safe. Your true love… You get to be with him, please don’t waste it. Let me take your burden.”

_Not unless you are ready to lose him, to take that burden upon yourself._

Thoughts upon thoughts were fighting in Mingi’s mind, the picture becoming clearer and clearer with every second that passed, with every second that fate was flowing into a new course. 

Mingi wanted to laugh.

Wooyoung took Mingi’s silence as an agreement to what he was about to do, as an agreement to his sacrifice, but Mingi was too stunned to really move or do anything. His mind was screaming at him, burning brightly.

Death accepted Wooyoung’s sacrifice and opened up the Gates of Death. They began walking towards them as an eerie and tense silence filled the clearing. 

Yeosang and San stood closely together, pale and terrified. Their fingers were linked together. Yunho had tears falling from his eyes, watching his childhood friend walk through the veil. There was no telling if Wooyoung would ever come back, and if he did, he wouldn’t be the same. _What do you think will become of you once you reap souls?_ If Wooyoung ever found his way out of the Underworld, he wouldn’t quite be human anymore. He’d lose part of himself in there.

Mingi wanted to throw up.

Death and Wooyoung became bluer and blurier as the Gates of Death closed, taking them with it. The sight galvanized Mingi, he couldn’t just let Wooyoung leave, not without saying what he had wanted to say for so long.

He surged forward, his fingers wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrist. Coldness shot up his arm, nearly making him let go in pain and surprise, but he wouldn’t let go, no matter what.

“Wooyoung, I—”

“Don’t,” Wooyoung interrupted him, his voice broken and quiet. “Don’t say it.”

Mingi’s heart shattered, tiny pieces falling onto the snow below them as if it had been a frail thing all this time, made of ice. Too dangerous for a burning love as it would melt and disappear, not made for heartbreak as it broke into pieces and fell apart.

“If you say it, I might change my mind,” Wooyoung continued. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

He knew.

If Wooyoung knew Mingi was in love with him, then he had to know the truth.

“But I…” Mingi trailed off, taking in Wooyoung’s utterly undone state. 

His jaw was set, his hands trembling, and a haunted look in his eyes.

“I’ve chosen my fate, Mingi. It’s time you choose yours,” he said quietly. “Yunho is your true love, don’t waste it away. Not now that I’ve decided to carry out Death’s bargain.”

“Wooyoung,” Mingi whispered but there were no words on his tongue anymore, they had fallen apart like his heart.

Gently, Wooyoung broke his wrist free from Mingi’s grasp and stepped further into the veil, until his shape became blurier and bluer, Death was looming behind him and waiting patiently.

Despite the broken expression on his face, Wooyoung looked sure and confident about his choice.

“Don’t worry about me, Mingi. It’s not as if I really have reasons to stay. I’ve been waiting for a chance to leave for a while now.”

Mingi fell to his knees, clutching his knees as he tried to not to cry out in pain and frustration. He watched the Gate of Death close before his eyes, taking Wooyoung with it. His soul burned brightly with pain.

A deadly silence spread over the clearing, the flowing of the creek was the only sound.

A warm hand clasped around Mingi’s shoulder. It was Yunho—his true love, a voice mocked him. Mingi felt as though he had suffered the loss of something great.

 _A burning sacrifice_ , a voice ringed in his mind.

“Mingi,” Yunho whispered cautiously. “We should go. It’s cold.”

But Mingi couldn’t move, his bones frozen and his energy gone. Yunho sat down in the snow, next to him, wrapping his arms around Mingi’s body. He softly let his head lean against Mingi’s.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Yunho said. “I know you love him.”

The words made something within Mingi snap, he looked to his side. Yunho was wearing the same clothes he had all those years ago when Mingi had seen his spirit on the clearing, but the blood on his white t-shirt wasn’t there. His sickness was gone. He was safe, and the curse had been broken, but Mingi couldn’t feel the victory of it.

Mingi nuzzled his head into Yunho’s chest, tears falling from his eyes as he finally understood the truth behind the family curse and his own role regarding it. The burning sacrifice and the threads of fate.

 _The true love that will wither before loving eyes_ , he recalled as he watched the barrier close completely. Wooyoung gone with it.

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason this fic was an absolute nightmare to write LMAO the scariest thing about it was the writing process bye
> 
> but i hope it was an entertaining read nonetheless!! lmk what you think ^^
> 
> twt: @hhhjoong
> 
> (i have an alternative ending to this, if you want me to post it lmk!!)


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